A Surprising Change
by Anna Emna
Summary: While tending Aziraphale's bookshop after the angel was discorporated, Crowley meets with a rather shocking surprise coming through the bookshop door. (Just something I wrote for fun, don't go berserk... I'm doing a little series of one-shots that cover if Zira returned in a different body)


Crowley sat in the dingy old bookshop, feeling supremely irate. Grumbling to himself, he stood, ambling towards the rows and rows of dusky old books. The collection had changed drastically since the Apoca-oh-wait-never-mind-so-sorry-to-be-a-bother; to be specific, they had gotten far more entertaining, and did not make Crowley feel incredibly on edge just to be near them. Letting out an unnecessary exhale through his nose, he pushed his sunglasses down on his nose and inspected the books. _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone*, Calvin and Hobbes**, Hunger Games***…_

Crowley let out a hiss and went back to the seat, flopping down. Count on the stupid angel to go get himself discorporated in the middle of winter****. The demon coiled up in a snakelike manner, a sour look planting itself on his face. Winter made the serpent restless, what with the cold, Christmas (the only upside of which, was the fact it gave him an excuse to get especially piss-drunk), and the lack of visits to the duck pond*****. He was only tending to the bookshop out of pure boredom, and definitely not out of courtesy to his frien- _enemy_. Crowley had always been rather skilled at lying to himself. Giving another unnecessary huff, he glared at the door of the bookshop, _not_ desperately wishing the angel would come in and pour them both a drink like nothing at happened. He glared some more, stopping before the door began to smolder, and briefly considered drinking all of the angel's liquor, before deciding it wasn't worth the celestial wrath, settling on napping in the chair and hope Aziraphale would pop in while he was sleeping. He _did not miss him_. At all. He shut his slitted eyes, still in firm denial, just drifting off to the wonderful realm of napping, when the jingle that indicated the door was opening sounded. He darted up hopefully before he could stop himself, and, praying to Go- Sa-… Manchester that the angel hadn't caught it, only to sink back down in disappointment. It was only some girl, in her early twenties by the looks of her, unkempt curly blond hair, and round, sky blue eyes. Not at all hard on the eye either, despite being a little on the petite side.

"Can you read?" Crowley growled, his temper flaming for some reason, "The sssign ssssays clossssed." He hissed before he could catch himself.

The girl merely looked confused (Crowley was beginning to think she was a bit thick), before catching her reflection in the door, her face dawning in comprehension just as Crowley picked up the aura, his face molding into one of utter bafflement, both bursting into speech spontaneously,

"Aziraphale?!" "Oh Crowley, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't-"

Crowley burst out indignantly, while the angel looked terribly flustered****** as she straightened herself out. Crowley was still trying to get a hold of his thoughts, coming to terms with the facts that Aziraphale was not only… in a different body, but also… of the opposite gender. He didn't sure why it ruffled him so much, but he wasn't sure whether he liked his own surprise so much. Aziraphale had taken off her coat, to reveal his… her… the angel's usual tartan vest (the angel's tastes still hadn't changed, not even in 2010), only it was more… fitted, and she was wearing a tartan skirt cut at the knees. She… he(?) was blushing in embarrassment, her blond hair even more messy. It took Crowley a second to finally find his tongue, and even then it came out a little rougher than he meant,

"What in the name of MANCHESSSSSTER happened to you? I mean you're all… I mean… you're…"

He ran out of words, leaving him speechless for a moment. In all the years they had known each other, neither had been a female in their lifetime. If either of them had, it might have been a bit easier, Crowley thought. Aziraphale looked patent, waiting until Crowley was finished, until… she(?) spoke, her tone patent,

"I understand this is a bit of a shock my dear, I'm actually a bit startled myself, but they were a bit short on bodies Up There, and… well… I wasn't actually aware myself until just now. I assure you dear boy, it's still me."

There was no doubt about it; it was indeed Aziraphale's voice, a bit higher pitched, which only added to the effect of the angel's already slightly feminine voice. The accent was the same, everything about it was Aziraphale. Crowley was starting to calm down, and get a grip on himself, allowing him to slip back into his usual calm, snide persona. He wasn't even sure why he was so startled; this has happened before, with that lady from NOT-Judgment Day, although to be fair, he knew that was possession, and was on the verge of passing out at the time. It wasn't a full-blown body. That was probably it, Crowley relaxed, and allowed his old snakelike smirk to slither its way on his face,

"Nice skirt."

Aziraphale looked down suddenly, taking on the face of one who wished their skirt was lower cut, and her face was rather red as she looked back up sheepishly, a little smile crawling its way up her face, more in relief than anything. Crowley grinned wider, finding himself getting much more used to it; it was only a change in genders, plenty of angels and demons could handle that. The flush was toning down in Aziraphale's face, her smile becoming a shade more genuine, although she still looked a bit embarrassed at the skirt.

"Shall we do the Ritz, angel?"

Crowley felt a touch relieved at the angel's cheerful "Of course dear", and opened the door to the Bentley for her as he always had.

"On the bright side, no one will keep mistaking us for gay anymore…" Crowley chuckled.

Aziraphale only looked confused,

"I forget, which one is which?"

"Never mind angel…" Crowley chuckled, before speeding off. Maybe he'd scare a pedestrian.

"THAT WAS NOT FAIR!"

A man-shaped creature with light red straight hair and grey eyes yelled at a grinning man-shaped creature with light brown tousled hair and gold-ish eyes. The brown haired man-shaped being only grinned,

"Oh pipe down Uriel, it was too! We were short on bodies!"

"THAT IS NOT TRUE! You know it Raphael, it is against ours laws to lie!"

"Oi! I never said _which_ bodies!"

"You _dirty_-"

"OI! 'ands off, this is a new suit!"

"I don't give a… I don't care about your da-… I don't care about your suit… AND QUIT THAT ACCENT!"

"I 'appen to _like_ this accent! I don't 'ear you griping to 'Zira 'bout 'is accent! Or even Joel, and 'e's got an Australian one!"

"That's different, you sound ridiculous! Besides, they don't cheat on bets!"

"I was not cheating! I 'appened to give 'Zira a gal's body, there's nothing wrong with that!"

"Oh come on, I'm not stupid!"

"Oi, I wasn't the one who led the Betrayer to earth…"

"Oh that's rich coming from the angel who used a fish's gallbladder to heal some human's eyes!"

"I WAS BEING RESOURCEFUL!"

"Or short on resources…"

"You wouldn't know, you've got the sharpest eyes 'round 'here! 'e was really greatful!"

"Doesn't stop it from being ludicrous."

"Like driving the Devil to'ards Earth?"

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! Squeezing a fish's gallbladder into some poor human's eyes was not accidental!"

"It 'appened to be by a lake, 'lright? I was making use of what I 'ad!"

"Huh."

"'Huh' yerself…"

*Crowley sniffed. The Sorcerer's Stone was actually a myth, generated by Crowley himself quite by accident, the circumstances of which involved an orange peel, a rather overweight albino mouse, and a particularly inebriated Aziraphale.

**Crowley didn't know what a comic was. He assumed it was one of Heaven's.

***He had heard of that one. He considered giving it a read for a moment, but decided he wasn't particularly interested in the gladiator games modernized. He had received a commendation for those despite being in a completely different part of town rather caught up in an incident relating to an orange peel.

****An incident similar to the one revolving around the rumor of the sorcerer's stone; it involved the same potted plant.

*****Actually, more of a _pond_ pond now, due to the lack of ducks.

******Granted, that was how the angel usually looked, but it was different on a female.


End file.
